Dry Feet
by imagineif
Summary: Rachel gets asked out by Joshua earlier in the day, and so has time to call Emily before she turns up at the apartment. Single chapter probably, stand alone fic


Rachel got invited out by Joshua earlier in the day and she had time to call Emily to cancel.

Rachel was just about to leave the floor at work when she was called to the phone.

"Hey Rachel," said Joshua. Rachel felt butterflies.

"Hi Joshua," she said.

"I forgot to ask when I was there today. I was wondering if you'd like to come to The Vanity's opening night."

"The Vanity?"

"Brand new night club. It's going to be very hot, very soon." He named a few famous stars who were going to be there. "I'll leave your name on the list. Just tell the doorman who you are and he'll let you in."

"Great," Rachel said. "I'll see you there." She hung up and jumped up and down in excitement. He'd asked her out! He'd asked her out! Not on an exclusive date, but it was a start. She'd see him outside of work for the first time, and they could talk about something other than ties. Now what was she going to wear? She had run through several combinations by the time she made it to where she'd kept her bag, and it was then that she remembered her promise to her boss. She was supposed to take her boss's niece out to the opera. There was no way that she was gong to the opera when she could be seeing Joshua. She'd have to cancel Emily.

Her boss had already left for the day, so she got the switchboard to put her through to his house, where she assumed Emily was staying.

"Hello," Rachel said, "May I speak to Emily please?"

"Speaking," said an English voice.

"My name is Rachel Green."

"Oh, Rachel. My uncle said we were going to the opera this evening."

"Ah, yes, yes he did, but I've just found out that I can't make it," Rachel said.

"Oh," Emily said.

"So I can't come with you to the opera."

"I see," Emily said.

"Sorry," Rachel said.

"Oh well," Emily said, "You don't even know me, and at least you got me before I left. The weather looks awful out there."

"It does? I'm in the middle of Bloomingdales so I don't notice it."

"Although I wouldn't mind going, even if I have to go on my own," Emily said, "so if you could just get the tickets to me, I'll just go straight to the opera from here."

"Oh," Rachel said.

"Thanks," Emily said, ringing off. It was inconvenient, but it couldn't be helped, and Rachel took the tickets around to her boss's apartment.

By the time she got there, she was soaking wet. When a young woman with short brown hair opened the door, Rachel could see that inside looked lovely and warm.

"Oh, you must be Rachel, I'm Emily, come in," she said, holding out her hand. "You look terrible." Rachel looked surprised at this directness. "I mean terribly wet. You're soaked! Haven't you got an umbrella?"

"I didn't take it to work with me," Rachel said.

"I could lend you one if you like," Emily said, "My uncle wouldn't mind." She was about to hand Rachel an umbrella. "But would you like something to drink first."

"No, no, thanks, I just came to give you these," Rachel said, handing her the envelope, "I've got to run."

"Take care," Emily said, handing her the umbrella.

Rachel hurried out of the apartment building, and immediately got knocked down by a wiener cart. Aching all over, she managed to make it on to the subway, but it was only when she got off that she realised she'd lost the umbrella.

At home, she showered, changed and redid her make up, and then rushed out again, with a new umbrella. Outside the Vanity was packed and Rachel was just hoping to get inside. She went up to the doorman, who looked as though he was carved in stone.

"Hello, my name is Rachel Green."

"And?" the doorman said.

"My name is on the list," she said. She had heard that doormen could be slow. The doorman checked the list.

"No, no Rachel Green." She blushed.

"Joshua said I could come."

"Yeah yeah," the doorman sneered. Rachel stepped away. There must be some mistake. Joshua had given her his number – she'd call him. But she couldn't find her cell phone. The evening was getting worse and worse. "Is there a Rachel Greep?" the doorman called. Rachel turned around sharply. That must be her name, spelt wrong, but a woman closer to the front yelled,

"I'm Rachel Greep!"

"You are not," Rachel yelled indignantly, running up and grabbing the imposter by the shoulder. "What kind of a last name is Greep?" but the woman had shrugged her off and got through. Damn her! And then suddenly she felt someone tugging at her, or rather the umbrella that she had tucked under her arm. "Hey!" she said, hitting back at the large woman behind her, who was trying to steal her umbrella. She'd already lost one of those this evening.

Could it have been any worse?

She felt too embarrassed to go straight back home so she went to a club she knew and met some acquaintances. When she got back home in the evening, she found Monica, Ross and Emily seated around the kitchen table.

"Oh," she said, "I thought you were at the opera."

"Yes, I've been. It was lovely," Emily said, "I was just telling your friends about it." Rachel noticed that her glance lingered on Ross, who returned it.

"And, er, you dropped by to tell me about it?"

"No, I dropped by to give you this," Emily said, handing her a cell phone. "It was on the floor out in the hallway when I went to the opera. I rang a number to see whose it was, and I found out it was yours."

"Oh," Rachel said, guessing whose number that was.

"Ross said to come on over after the opera, so I did." She looked at her watch. "I'd better be going," Emily said.

"I'll help you get a taxi," Ross said and escorted her out of the apartment. "See you tomorrow," he said to both of them.

"Did I just miss something?" Rachel asked, as the door closed.

"They really seem to have hit it off. But never mind Ross, what about you?" So Rachel sat down and told her the story, with the final remark,

"I'm glad this evening is over. It can't get any worse."


End file.
